


OPERATION: CHRISTMAS

by Waffle-o (XylB)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: FAHC, GTA Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XylB/pseuds/Waffle-o
Summary: The FAHC do a secret Santa! Just with a teensy weensy bit more theft involved.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	OPERATION: CHRISTMAS

Michael swears under his breath as he hops up the side of a building, pressing and releasing the little rappel button to hoist him up in small, calm steps and glancing at his watch to see the time. It's 9:15 p.m., which means he has 45 minutes until the meeting, and therefore 45 minutes where everyone will be working their way across the traffic-jammed city, so hopefully no one will spot him all the way up here on the outside of the third floor of fucking Art's Crafts, which is in a surprisingly nice building for being a plain little crafts store. Michael's somewhat sure bribery had to be involved for Arthur, the owner, to get real estate just a street over from the rich-bitch boutiques and jewellery stores. Or maybe sold his soul. 

Michael comes to an easy stop by a sliding window, and with a quick jimmy of the lock with a pocket knife and a little fiddling, he manages to slide it smoothly shut. No alarm goes off. He climbs into the building and lands softly on carpeted floor, detaching the carabiner holding the rope from the harness fitted snugly under his jeans - hidden in case he has to rush back to Geoff's for aforementioned meeting.

He doesn't turn any lights on, doesn't need them with the Christmas lights outside, and pads over to the staff desk, glancing around quickly before sliding over it to the other side. Through the door is stacks upon _stacks_ of craft supplies, from fabric to foam to sewing to paint - which is, coincidentally, exactly what he needs. He drops to a crouch to scan through the different cans of paint, finds metal paint, and chooses his colours quickly. A handful of small tins, easily stuffed inside his backpack. He nabs a couple paintbrushes while he's there as well, and zips up his bag before standing up. 

He's pushes back through the staff door and is just about to leave when he hears a creak.

Quicker than anything, Michael pulls a gun from his jacket, and snaps to aim at the noise - and Jeremy's pointing a gun right back at him. They blink.

"Hey," Jeremy says, raising three fingers as a placating gesture. "Heyyyy."

"'ey," Michael replies, squinting. Jeremy's got something in his other arm, but he's turned just enough that Michael can't see it.

"What you got there?" Michael asks.

"A whole case of fuck off, Michael," Jeremy answers, smiling slightly. Michael puts his gun away and crosses the counter again. Jeremy jumps, also withdrawing his weapon, but still putting a hand up.

"Hey," he says, a warning. Michael grins, steps forward once to test it.

" _Hey_ ," Jeremy repeats, but this time lays his accent on playfully thick. 

A beat passes, and then _Jeremy_ steps forward. Michael raises his hands. 

"Hey!" Michael bark, and then, with his own jokey accent, "'ey! Hey hey hey!"

"Hey!"

" _Hey_!" 

Jeremy shuffles forward again, and Michael raises his voice.

"Heyheyhey! 'ey!" Michael steps again, and this time Jeremy backs up.

" _Hey_. 'ey, hey hey hey." They're both stifling laughter. Michael also backs up, a truce. 

"I'm crafting' 'ere," Jeremy jokes, and both break into full laughter.

"All right, awright, I guess I'll leave ya alone," Michael jokes back, full Al Capone. "Ya get to keep ya kneecaps today."

"Get outta here, scumbag."

"I'm leaving boss, a'm leaving."

And Michael leaves, giggling to himself as he rappels slowly back down the building.

\-- 

[a week ago]

"Right then," Geoff says, slapping down a manila file on the table. It says _OPERATION: CHRISTMAS_ in a big red stamp on the front and looks decidedly unjolly. 

"Christmas heist?" Ryan guesses, looking up at Geoff.

"No. This is to bring some fucking Christmas _cheer_ to your glum faces," Geoff replies. "So we fucked up a job, it happens." 

"I lost my custom guns," Jeremy pouts, leaning heavily on the table.

"You crashed my car," Jack points out.

"Smashed my bike to bits." - "It was a bicycle, Gavin." - "You still ran it over!"

"I broke my arm," Ryan says, lifting said arm.

"Lost my wedding ring," Michael deadpans. Geoff sighs.

"Okay, so maybe some things went wrong," he admits.

"You were sulking over your torn clothes all of last week," Jack reminds Geoff. "You almost cried."

"Shut up! Anyway, Operation: Christmas is to get you all in a good fucking mood again, because as delightful as it is when you're all quiet, I can only take mopey assholes for so long."

"What's Operation Christmas, then?" Gavin asks. Geoff lifts a gun and shoots Gavin in the chest - Gavin yelps and fumbles to catch the Nerf dart in his hand. He turns it over and curiously pulls a piece of rolled up paper from the inside. He unrolls it.

"It says - "

" _Don't_ say it out loud, asshole," Geoff snaps. He shoots Jeremy next. Then Jack. Ryan. Michael. Ryan misses his and scrabbles under the table for it. 

"It's a secret Santa!" Geoff announces, and shoots himself. "Opening presents on Christmas morning, in here, don't be late."

"Wait - _fuck_ ," Ryan swears as he thumps his head on the underside of the table. "What are we getting?" 

"Anything you like," Geoff answers, grinning widely. "Just try not to be lame. And _don't_ tell anyone who you have." 

"Mhmm," Ryan agrees, tugging his paper out with his teeth.

"Operation: Christmas! You have two weeks to get your shit together."

\--

[present day]

"Gavin."

"Ryan."

"Gavin."

"Ryan."

Ryan glances over at Gavin. Gavin glances at him. They're both standing in front of the same jewellery counter, and the tension is palpable.

"So are you getting me a necklace?" Ryan teases.

"Maybe," Gavin grins. Ryan blinks.

"Wait, do you actually have me?" He asks. A laugh bubbles out of Gavin.

"I'm not bloody tellin' you that, am I?"

They both pause. The rubies and emeralds glitter in the fluorescent lights. It's a pricey shop - the cheapest display Ryan can see is only just under $1k.

"You buying anything?" Ryan asks. Gavin rocks on his heels.

"Are you?" He counters, looking up at Ryan.

"I don't think silver suits me."

The quiet, polite chatter of sales assistants drifts past them, and the calm classical music fills in the silence.

"You're robbing it for money later aren't you," Ryan murmurs. Gavin grins.

"Wanna team up?" He asks.

\--

"Cut the alarms!" Ryan whisper-shouts into the comms, nervously glancing around - there's no sirens yet, but they're still absolutely fucked if they don't leave in the next seven minutes. "Gavin!"

"I'm trying!" Gavin whisper-shouts back. "Which one should I do?"

"I don't - fuck it, blue," Ryan replies. The street is dark and empty around him but his nerves are prickling with fear. Still no sirens. Maybe six minutes to clear the place and get out.

A _snip_ over the comms, and the alarms grow _louder_. 

"Gavin!"

"I did blue!"

"I am _not_ bailing you out - " 

With a grunt and a thump over Ryan's earpiece, the alarms all suddenly turn off. Five minutes, no sirens, and Ryan remains crouched in silence.

"What did you do?" He asks hesitantly.

"Just pulled them all out," Gavin replies cheerfully, coming around the side of the building.

"Great, now it's probably called SWAT on us."

"Then let's be quick, yeah?" Gavin teases, quickly pushing the doors open to get in.

They manage to clear the most expensive counters in two minutes flat and are just starting on the second-rate silver when sirens start whooping - but not as far away as Ryan expected. Not nearly as far away as expected. Instead, much _closer_. 

"Are those - " Gavin starts, and the first cop car screeches to a stop outside.

\--

"This better be good."

Gavin groans, looking up from the bench to see Geoff standing on the other side of the bars, hands shoved into his pockets.

"It was his idea," Ryan says quickly, pushing himself up from lying down.

"You're both idiots," Geoff replies, fighting back a smile. "What the hell were you even trying to do?"

"Money," they both sigh.

"Operation Christmas," Gavin adds.

"Dumbasses. How'd you get caught robbing a _store_?" 

"They didn't put on the sirens until they were on our street," Ryan says. "By the time we heard them, it was too late."

"Sounds like they got smart."

"Unfortunately," Gavin agrees. "Are you bailing us out or not, Geoff?"

"Yeah, yeah, I am," Geoff says, and waves someone over to unlock the cell.

With a friendly goodbye (from Geoff) and dismissed paperwork (again, Geoff), they walk out free and clear.

"Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you two on bail?" Geoff asks. His car unlocks with a beep.

"Think that's a new record," Gavin remarks, glancing over at Ryan. "Nine hours in holding?"

"Wasn't Jack in for twelve once?"

"He's trouble, that one," Geoff says with a cheerful laugh. "Now get the fuck in."

\--

"So, fancy seeing you here," Jack says, resting an elbow on the open window of his car. Ryan rolls his eyes.

"You followed me here, didn't you?" He asks dryly, tapping his foot impatiently against the pedal. The auto shop isn't open yet, but Ryan's content to wait outside in the dingy car park.

"Who said I don't always visit the mechanic at - " Jack pretends to check his watch " - half-seven in the morning? I mean, Ryan, what if I need my tyres changed?"

"Uh-huh." Ryan smiles, unconvinced. Jack just grins at him.

"You're not getting anything out of me, you know," Ryan says, glancing over.

"I know," Jack says matter-of-factly. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't crash with that broken arm."

"You're an asshole."

"I know!"

Ryan laughs to himself and they wait in comfortable silence for the shop to open - when it does, the mechanic beckons them in, noting their licence plates with a sigh.

"Don't worry, we haven't brought the cops this time," Jack jokes, rolling in beside Ryan.

"It's not the cops I'm worried about," Alfredo teases, shaking Jack's hand through the window. "So which of these is stolen?"

"Mine isn't," Jack says. They both turn to Ryan.

"Not... _recently_ ," Ryan lies sheepishly. Alfredo cocks an eyebrow. 

"The owner won't be asking you about it," Ryan says, and turns the engine off. "Trust me."

"Against my better judgment, I will," Alfredo replies, dramatically pressing a hand to his chest. "What do you want done to these, then?"

"I need a coupla dents popped out," Jack says.

"Paint job," Ryan says. Alfredo looks between the both of them.

"Okay, you first," he says, pointing at Jack. "Sorry, Ryan, you'll have to wait."

"Fine by me."

\--

Ryan rolls out of the auto shop four hours later, and two hours after Jack leaves, with a fresh coat of paint and a spanking new licence plate - done strictly off the books, cash under the table - and drives it sedately back to the penthouse garage, tucks it in the corner where it came from, and tosses a dusty green tarp over it, where it will remain for another week.

\--

Geoff has been stood in the same spot for half an hour. His phone has rung twice and been sent to voicemail both times. He has ten texts waiting on his home screen (two from Alfredo and eight from Jack). There's been an itch on his back for five minutes now that he still hasn't scratched. He has turned away two sales assistants with the same placid _I'm just browsing_ excuse, and he can feel their suspicious glances from a mile off. 

"Hey boss."

Geoff jumps in place, blinking as he turns to face Michael, who's wearing a shit-eating grin and a civvie jacket.

"Michael," he says dumbly. "What are you doing here?"

"Just stopping by," Michael says cryptically. "Did you hear Gav and Ryan heisted the jewellery store on fourth?"

"I fuckin' bailed them out."

"And?" Michael raises an eyebrow.

"And what?"

"You doin' a little casing of your own?"

"Will you bail me out?"

"No."

"Then no, I'm not."

"Smart."

Geoff taps his foot and frowns at the display case. There's not one piece that even remotely inspires him. Michael lingers behind him, peering curiously at other cases.

"I'm trying to find a new watch," Geoff lies. "Since mine got drowned in the heist."

"There's some here," Michael says. Geoff turns around to join him. "That one'd suit you." He points to a sleek silver and black affair - admittedly appealing, and Geoff pretends to take an interest in it.

"I can see it," he says. "Hey, look, it's got matching cufflinks."

"That's fucking sweet," Michael says with a little chuckle. "Too bad they're not James Bond watches. Those would be fun."

"What, you want a fuckin' - garrote in it?"

"Eh, little remote explosive would do me." Michael grins. "Or something stupid like a homing device."

"Good way to keep track of all of you," Geoff jokes.

When Michael turns his back, Geoff slips his phone out of his pocket to send a text to Matt.

_Are you free?_

"Wanna go for lunch?" Michael asks. "The new burger place just opened up downstairs."

"Yeah, sure." Geoff's phone buzzes once in his hand and he checks the screen before pocketing it.

_For you, baby, I could be._

\--

On Christmas Day, the penthouse is a war zone. Gavin walks in to see half-hung tinsel forgotten on the wall, lights not plugged in, a fake tree with the bottom branches not yet pushed out, and a mass of discarded wrapping paper wadded in the corner of the sofa. There's glasses and snacks laying around, and a distinct lack of any of the crew.

Well, for about two seconds, and then Gavin hears a thump from further down the corridor behind the tree. Curious, he heads down there to the closed meeting room door, and stops for a second to listen carefully. The meeting room is well sound-proofed, but even it can't cover the raucous shouting of his friends. He grins to himself and pushes the door open, only to stop in his tracks seconds later. Everyone goes silent for a comical second.

Gavin can count about seven guns and four knives, all pointed at different people in what is clearly an ongoing fight.

"You're late," Geoff says, not removing his gun from its place on Jeremy's forehead. Gavin can see full clips discarded on the floor, and Michael's eyes are crinkled in the corner with quiet laughter, and Jack's giggling too much to hold his knife steady.

"What's going on, then?" Gavin asks, and the room erupts into chaos again.

"Do _not_ go in my room, it's _off_ - _limits_!" Jack shouts over the din. 

"I just needed the bathroom!" Ryan shouts back, and everyone starts playfully arguing again.

"Stay AWAY from the bag, stay AWAY, Geoff!"

"I know you don't have me!"

"WHO TOLD YOU."

"Gavin." Jack turns around with a butter knife in his hand. "Who did you have?"

"Myself," Gavin lies, and Jack snorts.

"Why, are we telling ev'ryone now?"

"No!" Geoff roars, sweeping a hand across the room. "No one is telling anyone _anything_ yet!" 

"We're just trying to guess," Michael says, both of his hands up and pointing twin guns at Jeremy and Ryan. "And I know for a _fact_ that Ryan has something fucking creepy for his person." 

"No I don't! Why would I!"

"Because you're Ryan that's why."

"Jack's hiding shit in his room, he's taped the door off," Jeremy adds.

"I didn't think I would _have_ to defend my fucking _room_!" Jack yells. "You demons!" 

\--

Eventually, about twenty minutes later, the playful threatening turns into laughter, the guns and knives into snacks and drinks, and they all move into the living room, all of them retrieving presents from almost comical hiding places. Ryan pulls a small box off of the ceiling fan, Jeremy pulls a couple out from under the sofa. Geoff and Jack both reveal boxes from under the tree, and Michael pulls a giant box from behind the second sofa. Jack wolf-whistles at it.

"Got yours, Gavin?" Jeremy asks, raising his eyebrows. Gavin pulls the slim gold envelope from inside his jacket and holds it up.

"Please tell me that isn't just money," Geoff teases.

"Of course not," Gavin replies with a grin. "Look, if my person doesn't want it, then I'll bloody have it."

A couple minutes later, Geoff claps his hands to trying quiet them down - succeeds after only a few insults - and Gavin sinks down onto the sofa next to Jack.

"Okay everybody, welcome to Operation: Christmas!" Geoff says. "Glad to see some smiles."

"Only some," Michael jokes - everyone laughs.

"All except Gavin," Geoff adds, pointing at a smiling Gavin.

"Arsehole."

"Yep!" Geoff smiles at Gavin.

"I'm going first, then," Geoff continues, and fishes a little slip of paper out of his pocket. "I had - actually, Michael, you go first."

"Why me?"

"So my present looks better after you fuck it up."

"Yeah, okay," Michael agrees, and stands up while Geoff sits down. "I don't have my paper, but I had Jeremy, so here ya go."

Jeremy beams as he takes the giant box, placing it on his lap and pausing before he unwraps it.

"Are we waiting for everyone or?" He asks.

"Nah," they all agree, and Michael waits eagerly for him to open it.

Jeremy's face lights up when he sees his gift, pulling it out of the box with glee. It's a replica of a gun from Borderlands, two normal pistols welded together with some extra parts, painted a purple and orange and just as worn and cell-shaded as the game - "dude, that's my favourite model!" "I know," Michael replies smugly - but as Jeremy inspects it, his jaw drops.

"Wait, Michael, does this - does this _work_?" 

"Should do," Michael says. "Matt welded it together for me, and it definitely shoots. No clue how accurate it is though."

"Holy _shit_ dude, thanks!" 

After a few more moments, Jeremy puts the gun to the side - Ryan silently picks it up to check it out - and stands up in Michael's place.

"Um, okay, well," he starts, picking up his two boxes. "Not sure how I'll top _that_ , but...Ryan, merry Christmas!" 

Ryan looks up, startled, and everyone laughs when he doesn't take the boxes right away. He blinks, and a belated smile breaks out across his face as he takes the gifts, carefully undoing the vibrant red bow before digging into the paper.

He lifts the lid of one box to reveal a black leather jacket, and when he flips it around, they all _ooh_ at the _Vagabond_ pressed across the shoulders, oddly eloquent. Ryan puts it down to open the second item, and barks out a laugh when he does. He lifts burgundy leather gloves from it, with tufts of white fleece poking out from the wrists. 

"Thanks," he says dryly, looking up at Jeremy.

"You're welcome," Jeremy laughs. "Thought a festive touch would suit you. Y'know, when you can wear them."

Ryan flips him off with the hand halfway in a cast, and pulls on the one glove he can with his teeth. He flexes his hand and grins, pleased with the fit.

"I was almost expecting bells on the cuffs," Geoff comments.

"You know, they _did_ have some with those, but I decided I value my belongings." 

"The jacket makes up for it," Ryan jokes, and pats Jeremy on the shoulder as he stands up. He shuffles nervously in place, looking around the room as he wiggles a palm-sized box in his hand.

"Um," he says, intelligently. "My present is actually - follow me."

"I was kidding about the pony!" Michael calls as they follow him over to the lift.

"Nice try, we don't have stables," Ryan shoots back, and presses the button for garage.

\--

"You wrapped a _car_?!" Jack exclaims as he tears off a strip of paper, a delighted smile on his face. 

"I had to keep it a surprise _somehow_ ," Ryan says, all of them watching as Jack continues to unwrap the entire car. "Especially after you tailed me to the fucking auto shop." 

"I had no idea you had me," Jack promises. "I cannot be _lieve_ \- Ryan, holy shit!" The last scrap of paper flutters to the garage floor and Jack steps back to take in the whole car - all painted his signature blue, but when Jack walks around, he sees it shimmer to silver at opposite angles. 

"This is - oh my god, Ryan," he murmurs, and Ryan hands him the little box. Jack quickly unwraps that to pick up the keys, and unlocks the car - _his_ car, now, to slide into the drivers' seat. 

"Dude, that's _awesome_ ," Michael says, and the others agree. Jack steps back out of the car while everyone fawns over it, and pulls Ryan into a sudden hug. It startles a laugh out of Ryan, and he holds Jack with his good arm. He's happy for Jack to press against the broken one for a few seconds - worth it for the sincerity in Jack's eyes when he thanks Ryan again. 

"Wait a fucking second," Geoff says, very slowly. "That's _my_ car."

"Eh." Ryan shrugs. "You weren't using it."

"You stole my CAR?!"

\--

"Fuck, so I guess it's my turn," Jack says when they're all trooped back into the penthouse. Geoff picks out bags of crisps and hands them out - Gavin catches one to the face and it's only Michael that stops it turning into a bag fight while Jack finds his gift.

"Well, Gavin, since you lost your bike in the heist," Jack begins, holding something behind his back. Gavin _beams_. 

"Here you go," Jack finishes, and presents Gavin with a box smaller than his palm. Gavin pauses, confused, and takes it delicately from Jack's hand.

Gavin opens the lid and the crew burst into uproarious laughter.

"Thanks, Jack," Gavin deadpans, holding up the tiniest 3D printed bicycle, the handlebars pinched between his fingertips. "Bastard."

But the corners of his lips are trying desperately to twitch upwards, and Jack breaks before Gavin laughs.

"I've got the rest in my room," he says. "Come on."

"Ah, great, more field trips," Geoff sighs, shuffling into the corridor after them.

Gavin _shrieks_ with delight when he sees the 3D printer, already plugged in and set up with a laptop - 

"Hold on a second," Gavin says, hand in midair, "is this one of my laptops?"

"Yep," Jack says proudly.

" _When_ did you take _that_?" 

"Couple of weeks ago."

" _Bastard_." 

And after a pause.

"Bloody great gift though, Jack."

\--

"Geoffrey," Gavin announces, rolling out the _r_. He brandishes a slim gold envelope and holds it out triumphantly. 

Geoff takes it cautiously, and then rips it open with abandon.

"Italy?!"

"For two," Gavin confirms, only the tiniest bit smug. "Thought you'd like a break."

"Gavin, I love you," Geoff says, and lunges forward to wrestle Gavin into a hug - Gavin yelps at the surprise. "You are the best crew member _ever_. You are the _best_ in this room, you are - " 

"We're still here, you know!" Jack calls, and pelts Geoff with his empty crisp bag.

"None of you got me a month-long holiday in fuckin' _Italy_!" 

"None of us _had_ you for giving you a month-long holiday in Italy," Ryan points out. 

"I have a birthday," Geoff counters, squeezing Gavin one last time before pulling away. "You're the best friend ever, Gavin."

Geoff tucks the tickets into his pockets and composes himself, looking around the crew once more.

"I'm the only one left, then," he sighs.

"I wonder who it is," Michael deadpans. "Big mystery." He grins.

"Well, Michael, my second favourite crew member - " ("who's the first?" "hey I thought I was second-favourite") " - I can't replace a wedding ring, but I _can_ get you this." And he presents Michael with a smart black box, complete with a silver ribbon and bow. 

"You didn't - "

"Just open it." 

Michael gives Geoff a sly little grin as he tugs the bow and opens the box.

"I picked this out for you," he protests, lifting the sleek silver and black watch out of its velvet.

"Eh, you gave me an idea," Geoff says. "Pull the knob on the side."

Michael does, and his face lights up when the knob pops out of place.

"You're the next bloody James Bond!" Gavin exclaims as Michael extends the garrote wire.

"Got a remote explosive, taser, and a homing device," Geoff explains. "Hope ya like it, buddy."

"Geoff, this is fucking _awesome_! Hey Gav, Gav, c'mere - Geoff, how does the taser work again?" 

"What - oi, no, bugger off - _Michael_!" 

"Nope! Nope nope nope nope _nope_ ," Jack yells, jumping up to shuffle away from an armed and dangerous (and grinning) Michael. "You are _not_ tasing me." 

"Aw, come on, just a little? Ryan?"

Ryan pulls a face and holds out his good arm - he yelps when Michael shocks him, and they all collapse into laughter and chaos, the penthouse returning to its war zone state once more, but this time with a shock watch and bunched-up wrapping paper ammo.

Operation: Christmas? The best heist they've done yet.


End file.
